


Confidantes and Cognac

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Drama, F/M, Friendship, Humor, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 18:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2438573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was a lot of things but the only thing that was in Emily’s best interest to remember was that he was married.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confidantes and Cognac

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the alphabet meme and [](http://took-skye.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://took-skye.livejournal.com/)**took_skye** ’s prompt of **U is for undertones**. I wanted more undertones but I can only tell the stories they tell me. Spoilers for Ashes and Dust and Honor Amongst Thieves.

They walked out of the restaurant arm and arm. Emily was actually smiling and it was genuine. It wasn’t the usual smile that she reserved for her mother where she wanted to run her head into the nearest wall with as much torque as she could muster. She loved her mother, admired her, and wanted to be loved by her. But there was always a catch. Emily didn’t even know if Elizabeth realized that.

There was no catch tonight, just dinner. They talked about stuff, kept it light, and the conversation flowed. Elizabeth talked about diplomatic work she hoped to have in the future. Emily talked about her job, some, and the new books she tried to make time to read. She deflected questions about her nonexistent love life and assured her mother, for the millionth time, that she had indeed not killed George. She thought her mother believed her.

“This was nice.” Elizabeth smiled as they came out into the drizzly night. “We don’t do this often enough.”

“We’re both so busy.” Emily replied.

“We should make time, Emily. We make time for everything else. We need to make time for each other.”

“I know Mother.” she gave a solemn nod. The evening had gone well; she hoped something else wasn’t coming to tear it asunder. “I’ll try, I promise.”

“I believe you.”

“Good, because I'm telling the truth. We’re closer to each other in proximity than we’ve been in years. I wanted to come back here to be closer to family and I ended up taking the busiest job on Earth.”

“It’s a job you love.” Elizabeth said. “You don’t enjoy it but you love it.”

“You keep saying that.”

“I still don’t quite understand it. But I see your face. I'm your mother, I know the difference between your happy Emily face and your unhappy Emily face.”

“Is it really that simple?” Emily asked.

“Rarely; but tonight it is.”

When the driver opened the door to the car, Emily let go of her mother’s arm. Elizabeth looked at her.

“I can have Stewart drop you off, sweetheart.” She said.

“I actually want to walk.”

“It’s raining.”

“It’s drizzling. And I probably need to walk off at least some of that appetizer, encore and dessert I ate. You know I don’t live too far.”

“You need to gain a bit of weight.” Elizabeth observed. “You're not eating right. When is the last time you had a physical?”

“Right before I joined the BAU.” Emily replied. “I'm fine Mother. It’s getting late; you need to go home and get a good night’s rest.”

Emily kissed her cheek, surprised when Elizabeth held her in a hug. They didn’t hug much. Elizabeth hugged Emily’s older sister Julia but with Emily it was different. That connection was missing, as if neither woman wanted to touch and reveal things about themselves. It didn’t often make sense to Emily but it was still true. It wasn’t just the actual miles that created distance between them, it was so many things that Emily didn’t have words for. She didn’t have them when they caused the rift and she didn’t have them now.

“I love you, Emily.” Elizabeth whispered.

“I love you too, Mother.”

“Say hello to your father for me, and please don’t be a stranger.”

“You always know where to find me, Mother. You surely found me this morning. Your showing up at my job unannounced was a bit…strange.”

“I'm sorry about that. I'm used to getting things done. That’s how you get things done.”

“Yes ma'am. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight sweetheart.”

Elizabeth got into the car and Emily watched it drive off into the warm, drizzly Washington night. She took a deep breath and started walking. She knew where her feet were taking her; she needed to come down off this case. It was a strange one, one perfectly suited for the BAU even if it didn’t go through the appropriate channels. Now the team knew her mother and how she did things.

Emily wasn’t sure how she felt about that but there was nothing she could do. It was over and done now; no need to wallow. All she could do was move on and keep doing the job to the best of her ability. She loved her job and now her mother finally saw how good she was at it. Emily didn’t know if it mattered, Elizabeth always seemed to have one idea about something. Maybe two if it was a big thing.

She didn’t like Emily in the FBI and nothing would really change that. She said she feared for her daughter’s safety in that job…there were so many safe jobs she could have with the same gratification. If only that were true. Emily missed things like sleep, books, friends (not that she ever had many), and a life. The BAU was her life now.

Sleep was on the jet, books were files and paperwork, and friends were her team. She still had those things, more or less than she had before. It was just different and after the roller coaster ride that her life could sometimes resemble, different was good.

She walked into the bar and was surprised by what she saw. Emily didn’t let it show, she just took her usual spot at the bar. When he saw her, his smile grew and he walked over and put a napkin in front of her.

“Hey you.” Mike Greeley smiled.

“It’s been a while.” She said, stroking his hand.

“It’s been too long. It’s always a pleasure. You're one of the few women who can bring a genuine smile to my face.”

“I'm honored.”

“Yeah right.” He was still grinning. “What are you drinking, love?”

“What's he drinking?” she asked, pointing to her Unit Chief near the end of the bar.

“Cognac,” Mike replied.

“I'm gonna stick to beer…Coors Light please. But may as well chase this one with a shot of Jack Daniels.”

“Yes ma'am.”

Mike nodded and got to work. Emily looked at Hotch until he looked back.

He wanted to say he was surprised to see her there but it was her hole in the wall. She’d told him about it once; said it was the only quiet bar in the District of Columbia. That’s what he needed tonight…quiet. At least he needed it on the outside, inside his mind was raging. He was trying to shut it up, or perhaps down, with the cognac.

He couldn’t go home visibly intoxicated…that would be bad. But he needed something, more often than not these days. Hotch got up and went over to her. She didn't ask, and might not even want it, but he did it anyway. He wasn’t alone anymore so he didn’t want to be.

“Hi.” She said as Mike sat the drinks down in front of her. He gave her another grin and went on to deal with some other customers.

“What are you doing here?” Hotch asked.

“I should be asking you that…this is my place.”

“You left early; I thought you were with your mother.”

“We had dinner at Pompeii. I just put her in a car. I guess I need to apologize.”

“For having dinner with your mother?” Hotch raised an eyebrow.

“I'm apologizing for what happened today, Hotch. You were shanghaied.”

“Prentiss women have a way of doing that.” he nearly smiled when he said it.

Emily wasn’t quite sure what he meant so she didn’t respond. She just held up her shot glass.

“What are we drinking to?” she asked.

“Clarity.” He replied.

Emily nodded; that was as good as anything. She took the shot down, feeling the burn in her chest. Then she drank about half of the beer. It felt good, in that bad sort of way. She pulled a cigarette case from her small purse and slipped a clove between her lips. Imagine her surprise when Aaron Hotchner produced a lighter from his inside jacket pocket. She leaned into the flame.

“How Humphrey Bogart of you.” she said after a deep inhale.

“Always be prepared.” He replied, putting the lighter back.

“For what?”

“Pretty women with cigarettes.”

She smiled. Did he think she was pretty? The only thing she thought about him was that he was married. He was quiet, he was reserved, he was brilliant, and he was brooding. He was a lot of things but the only thing that was in Emily’s best interest to remember was that he was married. She’d been there, done that, and had the tee shirt. She wasn’t going to let anything ruin the best career move of her life, especially her libido.

“I never expected to see my mother today.” She went on. It was best to talk about something neutral. “I never expected this case.”

“You handled it with efficiency and grace.” Hotch replied. “And your Russian was lovely.”

“My Russian is horrendous.” Emily rolled her eyes. “Do you want to hear something funny?”

“Yes.” Hotch nodded, sipping his cognac.

“My Russian is better when I'm drunk. Its great then.” She smiled.

“I have a feeling that plenty of Russians would say that as well.”

They both laughed a little before going back to the quiet.

“I see a lot of your mother in you.” he broke the silence.

“Oh God,” Emily covered her eyes. She was done with her beer and wanted another. She planned to savor the second. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s a good thing, I mean that.”

“I don’t know if I believe you.” she looked at him with a skeptical face. Mike quietly slipped in, gave her a new bottle, and took the old one.

“I mean it.” his voice was serious, Hotch-ly, as Morgan might say.

“I'm a lot like my father as well but I guess that’s more regular old me. Daddy is surely as badass as Mother, but there is less…something. Sometimes I can't find the words. I guess I’ll just say that Elizabeth Prentiss is a one of a kind gem.”

“I understand that.” He nodded.

“Which one of your parents have you become, or are afraid of becoming?” she asked.

When she looked at him, Emily saw his face change. It was subtle but she was an expert in it; saw it too many times to count. Not that he was ever an open book with her, or a book she could even pick up, but Hotch quickly started closing the gate and erecting the barbed wire. She didn’t know if she could stop him but she would try. Why? She was a glutton for punishment, that’s the only reason she could think of.

“Hey, I'm just making conversation, Hotch. I'm not trying…nevermind.” Emily shook her head.

If he was going to be that way, let him. They’d both had long days so it was probably for the best not to add more complications. There was still some night left. Emily could get a hot shower and a few chapters in and surely Hotch could go home to kiss his son and make love to his wife. She tried to push that image out of her mind but couldn’t. It was her own damn fault.

“I'm not like either one of my parents.” He said after a long silence. “OK, that’s not true. I have my father’s ambition. I just use it differently. I try to harness it in a healthy way.”

“Exactly.” Emily nodded. “That’s how I feel about my mother. Are you close to your mother? I just realized I don’t even know if your parents are alive or dead. Not that it’s really any of my business.”

“My mother is alive, living in Richmond with my stepfather. My father died when I was 17.” Hotch closed his eyes for a moment. He thought of his father, Evan Abby, Liam Abby, his teenage self, and his son. Hotch didn’t want to think about those things tonight. But he was always thinking about them in one way or another.

“What would you have done if it was your mother who walked into the BAU bullpen this morning?”

“Honestly?”

“That’s the only way I like it, Hotch.”

“I would’ve prayed for the ground to swallow me whole and strike the incident from your memories.” He replied.

He was surprised at the way Emily laughed. He was surprised that it reminded him, of all things, a line from a Dominick Dunne novel. _It was a laugh of enchantment, not derision_. She had a beautiful laugh; he didn’t get to hear it much.

Not that their jobs were all about the shits and giggles. They saw the darkest, ugliest side of human behavior and emotion. Often they were right in the middle of it, clawing their way out of dark tunnels. Emily’s laugh was definitely the light.

“Something about that statement makes me want to meet her.” she said.

“Absolutely not.” Hotch shook his head.

“Its only fair…you know Ambassador Prentiss.”

“I already knew her.”

“Its getting more unfair by the second.” Emily reasoned. “You're winning my argument for me you know.”

“My mother would probably like you.” he said before he could stop himself. He’d only had one cognac, didn’t know why his lips were loose.

“She would? Why?”

“Because she would like your mother and you're a lot like your mother. Mama loves them no-nonsense, shoot from the hip, intelligent, and fierce. That’s you to a tee, isn’t it?” Hotch looked at her.

“Sometimes.” Emily replied. “Is that how your mother is?”

She noticed that he called her ‘mama’ and when he did, the slightest hint of his long-lost Southern accent crept out with it. Morgan called his mother ‘mama’ too. Emily liked that, it was comforting, like a sweater or a blanket on a cold morning. She’d always called her mother ‘Mother’, which probably said a lot about their relationship. She didn’t know anyone else who did that.

“Sometimes.” Hotch repeated. He looked at his watch and finished most of his drink. “I need to go. Do you want a ride home?”

“I don’t want to put you out. You’re already late and I don’t live far.”

“Its raining.” He said.

“My mother said the same thing. The last time I checked I wasn’t the Wicked Witch of the West…I'm not going to melt out there. And if you're worried about my safety, I have a gun. I have two as a matter of fact.”

“Still…”

“What?” Emily looked at him but he wasn’t looking at her. If he wanted to say something then he should just say it. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t that easy though. He wasn’t even difficult; impossible was the word that came to mind.

“I’d just feel better if you got there safely, Prentiss. If I saw you there then I’d know for sure.”

“Well, if you insist…I don’t want you losing any sleep over it.”

He nodded, not saying anything else. He waved the bartender over and Mike asked him if he was ready for another.

“Actually, I’d like the tab please.” Hotch said.

“It’s on the house.”

“I couldn’t…”

“Any friend of Emily Prentiss is a friend of mine.” Mike said.

“Be careful Mike, I know some people who could drink away your retirement fund.” Emily said laughing.

“They pay.” Mike replied.

“Thank you.” Hotch said.

“It’s not a problem; have a good night. And you,” he turned to Emily. “Stop being a stranger.”

“I promise.” she leaned over the bar to give him a kiss on the cheek before she and Hotch walked out.

“How long have you known him?” he asked, holding the door for her.

They were walking down the street; Emily didn’t even know where he was parked. She watched Hotch move to the other side of her so that she was walking inside. He really was a gentleman. He’d never done that before but Jason had. She had to admit that even though it was old-fashioned, she liked it.

“Mike? It feels like forever. When I came back to DC to finish high school I was part of the party circuit. I wandered in there one night and the rest is history. I used to know every nook and cranny of this city. Its one of the only places I've ever truly been at home.”

Hotch didn’t respond. He stopped at his truck, opening the door for Emily. When he got in, she stopped him before he put his key in the ignition.

“Is everything alright, Hotch?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Is there something you're trying to ask me?”

“I don’t want to overstep my bounds. Sometimes I think we’re OK and then I say something or do something and…we’re not. I just noticed lately that you don’t seem alright. You work later than usual, you're strained when people ask how you are, you don’t talk about home as much. It’s not like you talked much about it in the first place…”

“I'm fine.” He cut her off, clearing his throat.

“OK.” She nodded as he started the truck. “I don’t want to be all up on you about it but you can talk to me. If you want, I mean, which you probably don’t. It’s just that sometimes talking is good. Especially to someone who isn’t smack in the middle of it.”

“Who do you talk to when you don’t want someone who’s smack in the middle of it?”

“Derek sometimes; he’s great to talk to. I talk to my stepmother or my therapist when it’s a real bitch. I know what holding it all in can do to a person. I just, um, I care and if you're upset or something I would listen.”

“Thank you.” Hotch nodded. “I'm fine.”

“Well how's Jack?” Emily mostly changed the subject. The ride wasn’t going to be long but she didn’t want it to be uncomfortable either.

“He’s getting really big.” Talk of his son brought a smile to Hotch’s face. “He’s talking more and running now, though he falls a lot too. It’s mesmerizing to watch him grow up.”

“I'm sure. Someday I might have a little one of my own.”

“You'd be a good mother, Emily.”

“How do you know that?” she asked.

“I'm a profiler, remember?”

“We’re not supposed to profile each other.”

“You're right. But I'm sure we have anyway.”

“I know I have.” She laughed. “I'm sorry; hazard of the job I guess.”

“Probably.” Hotch pulled up in front of The Watergate and put his blinkers on. “Here you are.”

“Thanks. You didn’t have to but I appreciate it. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

“OK.” She took off her seatbelt and went to get out of the truck. She stopped and looked at Hotch. “Thanks for today, Hotch.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well I know you can say you were just doing your job but my mother came in and bowled everyone over. You didn’t have to let her do that; maybe you shouldn’t have. But you listened to her and you helped. I would’ve never asked you for that favor but I do appreciate it.”

“I want to say you owe me but I think I’ll let it go.” The Unit Chief actually managed a smile that brought out his dimples.

“Well I'm good for it.” Emily replied. “You know where to find me when you want to call in the favor. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Prentiss.”

He wanted to say her name, remind himself to keep his distance. He’d been doing a good job thus far. In the beginning it was because he didn’t trust her or her reasons for being on his team. Now it was something else entirely that made his head hurt. Hotch’s head hurt a lot.

He didn’t like change but it was coming. He knew it. Strauss was lurking and surely about to strike. He didn’t know how or why; he feared he wouldn’t be prepared. So he pushed it all back, pushed everything back, and watched Emily go safely inside the building. As he pulled off he thought of calling home, letting Haley know he was on his way.

It didn’t matter anyway. She was probably asleep and Jack surely was. At least if she was asleep there would be no arguing. He wasn’t OK, hadn't been OK for awhile, and was waiting for the other shoe to drop and land straight on his skull. He should've had another cognac. Maybe he should’ve just talked to Prentiss.

But she was part of it too and that wasn’t her fault. This was entirely his fault. It could just be the universe’s fault…shit happens and all that. It was going to happen alright, all over Aaron Hotchner. Yeah, he should've had that second cognac.

***

  



End file.
